


Tick Tick Squeak

by Bat



Category: Homestuck, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:35:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bat/pseuds/Bat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Meddlesome Company have some "trouble" with "rodents".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick Tick Squeak

It’s been a regular day in the communal room so far: The usual bickering between Scout and Brawler, Demoman’s chipper disposition as prominent as ever- As regular as a day in the Company can be. It’s when the conversation lulls a little, when the room is almost silent, that you hear it.

clickclickclick whirr clickclick whirr eee clickclick

Scout immediately jumps to his feet, but you shoot him a glare. You slowly rise from your chair, holding up a hand- I’ll get it- and move over to the door in complete silence.  
Demoman is nearly falling out of his chair as you slowly turn the knob on the door. It opens with a slight click, similar to the ones being made by whatever lays on the other side. You ease the door open with glorious precision, peering through the crack cautiously.  
You notice something small scuttling at the bottom of the door, running in aimless circles- Clicking, whirring, squeaking.  
The crack in your knees is audible as you bend down, pulling the door open further as you go.  
You get a good look at the thing- A small, clockwork mouse, it seems. It squeaks through a painted on mouth, black on gaudy blue. A child’s toy, upon first glance, but the slow, deliberate footsteps you can only just hear over the mechanical noises of the creature indicate otherwise.

Innovator.

“What is it, Deadeye?” Scout hisses impatiently, craning his neck to see the clockwork beast.  
You turn around to shush him, but something stops you. The mouse suddenly stops ticking, and comes to a complete halt.  
You jump to your feet and stagger backwards just in time to get out of the way of a small explosion. The mouse lies in smouldering pieces, and the doorframe bathes in a fresh coating of soot.  
Demoman claps his hands and laughs, while you stare at the tiny heap of wreckage in front of you. You all freeze when a distinctive laugh echoes through the hallway.

Distinctive being the only word for it. At times it is shrill and almost tinny, and at others it is little more than a sickly cough. To anybody else, the laughter might seem the most harmless sound in the world.  
But Innovator’s laugh- Almost a giggle- throws not only you but the entire company into a state of alarm.

Brawler’s first move was to usher Demoman through the side door leading to his office. Scout began to step towards the remains of the clockwork mouse, but you throw an arm out in front of him.  
“Back,” you warned, throwing him a glare.  
“Fuck you, why?” He retorts, restricting his voice to a harsh whisper.  
“I’ll handle this one.”

He sticks out his jaw in what he must think is an expression of defiance (you’d like to hear a better explanation for the godawful expression sprawled across his face) but you push him aside, nodding towards the still ajar side door.  
He holds his ground for a moment, but the sound of footsteps throw him off.  
“Go,” you snap. “Now.”  
He holds your gaze for a second more before turning and vaulting over the table, closing the side door behind him. Just in time for Innovator to shuffle over the dead mouse.

“Vermin troubles, Detective?”

He’s smiling, he’s always smiling: A jarring expression on a face sunken and grey.  
“I’d hardly call it a problem, Innovator.” You reply, mocking his tone. “It was just the one.”

He slowly raises his arm, one joint at a time: Shoulder, elbow, wrist, and finally one long finger to point at the second mouse, jittering and squeaking across the floor. This one, yellow, creaks in a straight line and leaves a trail of liquid behind it. You can’t tell what it is from where you’re standing.

“Blue is explosive,” Innovator drawls, seemingly to the air around him. “And yellow is…”

You register the faint smell coming from the trail the toy leaves behind.  
You gasp as you lunge towards the mouse, snatching it from the floor just in time to see a spark in its underside.

“Gasoline,” you puff, placing the mouse on the table. “Fire.”

Innovator’s smile grows even broader, and he claps his hands.  
“Well done!” His tone matches the squeaking of his clockwork contraptions. “What about green?”

The green mouse scuttles and clicks beneath the table, innocent eyes staring blankly ahead.

“I don’t-” you begin.

The mouse suddenly sputters as a cloud of smoke emerges from behind it. It continues in this manner, leaving puffs of grey-ish smoke in its wake.

“Smoke bomb,” you murmur.  
“Precisely!” Innovator exclaims. The glee on his face is apparent. “And why is that?”  
“I have to hunt and kill the mice,” You speak slowly. “Which I won’t be able to see if the room is full of- Very clever.”  
He nods happily, and you hear small explosion from the next room- followed, naturally, by swearing from Scout.  
There goes that laugh again, the laugh of a madman.

“Have fun, Detective!”

Innovator stumbles towards the doorway and thumps his way down the hall. You step forward to chase him, but the squeak of a mouse behind you holds you back.

 

 

 

You turn to face the little blue mouse scuttling towards you.


End file.
